Complete Works of Thomas Love Peacock

by Thomas Love Peacock

  “Ellen, my dear,” said Miss Ap-Nanny, “perhaps Mr — I beg the gentleman’s pardon, I have not the pleasure of knowing his name.”

  “My name,” said the stranger, “is Calidore.”

  “A foreign name, I presume,” said Miss Ap-Nanny.

  “Probably,” said the stranger.

  “But, dear me, sir, surely you must know something about your own name!”

  “Certainly,” said Calidore, stealing glances all the while at Ellen, and perfectly distrait.

  “Allow me to hand you some toast: you must have had a very pleasant sail yesterday.”

  “Very pleasant!”

  “Did you come far?”

  “Very far.”

  “From Ireland perhaps.”

  “Not from Ireland.”

  “Then you must have come a long way in such a small boat, such a very small boat.”

  Not so very small: it is one of our best sea boats.”

  “Do you carry your best sea boats in your waistcoat pockets? Then I suppose in your great-coat pockets you carry your ships of the line! — But, dear me, sir, you must come from a very strange place.”

  “I come from a part of the world which is known to the rest by the name of Terra Incognita. I am not at liberty to say more concerning it.”

  “But, sir, if it is a fair question, what has brought you to Wales?”

  “I have landed on this shore by accident. My present destination is London. I am to remain in this island twelve months, and return with a wife and a philosopher.”

  “God bless me! what can Terra Incognita want with a philosopher, and how are you to take them away?”

  “In the same boat that brought me.”

  “Why, who do you think will trust herself? You would like some more tea? — Ellen, my dear, do you think any lady would trust herself?”

  “If she had love enough,” said Ellen.

  “Cream and sugar?” said Miss Ap-Nanny.

  “The boat is perfectly safe,” said the stranger, looking at Ellen. “I could go through a hurricane with it.”

  “Love, to be sure, will do anything,” said Miss Ap-Nanny, “but, Lord bless me! Pray take an egg; and to be sure it would be worth some risk just in the way of curiosity to see Terra Incognita. They must be very strange people, but what they can want of a philosopher I cannot imagine. I hope if you bring him this way you will keep him muzzled, for my papa says they are very terrible monsters, fiends of darkness and imps of the devil. I would not trust myself in a boat with one for the world. Would you, Ellen, my dear?”

  “I should not be much afraid,” said Ellen, smiling, “if he were in the hands of a safe keeper.”

  “We have a philosopher or two among us already,” said the stranger, “and they are by no means such formidable animals as you seem to suppose.”

  “But my papa says so,” said Miss Ap-Nanny.

  “I bow acquiescence,” said the stranger, “but perhaps the Welsh variety is a peculiarly fierce breed.”

  “I am happy to say there is not one in all Wales,” said Miss Ap-Nanny.

  “I hear they run tame in London,” said Ellen.

  “Then you are not so much afraid of them as your sister, said the stranger.

  “Not quite,” said Ellen, smiling again, “I think I would venture into the same room with one even if he were not in an iron cage.”

  “Oh, fie, Ellen,” said Miss Ap-Nanny, “that is what you call having liberal opinions. I cannot imagine where you got them. I am sure you did not learn them from me. Do you know, sir, Ellen is very heterodox. My papa actually detected her in the fact of reading a wicked book called Principles of Moral Science, which, with his usual sweet temper, he put, without saying a word, behind the fire. He says liberal opinions are only another name for impiety.”

  “Dear, good man!” said Mrs Ap-Nanny, opening her mouth for the first time, “he never was guilty of a liberal opinion in the course of his life.”

  Mrs Ap-Nanny left the room shortly after breakfast to superintend the affairs of the household; and Miss Ap-Nanny, who was her secretary of state for the culinary department, was called out to assist in consultation whether leek porridge or buttered ale should be administered to the queasy vicar: for, though the old gentleman preferred the latter, Mrs Ap-Nanny was of opinion that the former was more medicinal, and the vicar was one of that numerous class of Benedicts of whom their wives take so much care in their indispositions, that they are never suffered to consult their own tastes in any of the essential practice of the science of dietetics. On this occasion, however, the vicar was roused to exertion, and was so Athanasian in his invectives against the leek porridge, and so Jeremitaylorically pathetic in his entreaties for the buttered ale, that the heart of Mrs Ap-Nanny was softened, and the ale was prepared accordingly.

  Whether it was owing to the exertion he had used in obtaining the ale, or to the ale itself, or to both in conjunction, we are not prepared to say, but the vicar found himself suddenly better, rose, dressed and descended. Opening the parlour-door, he recoiled several paces in amazement to see the stranger on his knees before his daughter Ellen, in the act of making passionate love, and Ellen, in the simplicity of her heart, listening to him with interested if not delighted attention.

  “Heyday!” exclaimed the vicar, who was destined this morning to exert his energies more than he had done for twenty years, “Why, what on earth — ? Is this your return for my old Welsh hospitality, to begin by seducing my daughter, the staff of my life now that I am stricken in Years?”

  “I assure you, sir” said Calidore, “I have none but the most honourable motives.”

  “How can that be, sir, when you never saw her before this morning?”

  “Indeed, sir, I beg your pardon. I saw her yesterday.”

  “Oho! then you came here by appointment, and this was the scheme between you to lay a trap for my sobriety, and make me an accomplice. And now I recollect, I do not recollect that I gave you an invitation, as you want to make me to believe I did.”

  “Nay, sir, your friend the rector can witness it.”

  “Sir, what can a young man of your figure — you look like a courtier — mean by making love at first sight to my daughter? What can you mean, sir? Perhaps you have heard that she will have a thousand pounds, and that may be a temptation.”

  “Money,” said the stranger, “is to me mere chaff.” And producing a bag from his pocket, and shaking it by one corner, he scattered on the floor a profusion of gold. The Vicar, who had seen nothing but paper money for twenty years, was astonished at these yellow apparitions, and picking up one inspected it with great curiosity. On one side was the phenomenon of a crowned head with a handsome and intelligent face, and the legend ARTHURUS REX. On the reverse, a lion sleeping at Neptune’s feet, and the legend REDIBO.

  “Here is a foreign potentate,” said the Reverend Dr Ap-Nanny, “whom I never remember to have heard of. Pray, is he legitimate by the grace of God, or a blasphemous and seditious usurper whom the people have had the impudence to choose for themselves?”

  “He is very legitimate, and has an older title than any other being in the world.”

  “Then I reverence him,” said the Vicar. “Old Authority, sir, old Authority, there is nothing like old Authority. But what do you want with my daughter?”

  “Candidly, sir,” said the stranger, “I am on a quest for a wife, and am so far inspired by the grace of Venus, Cupid, and Juno, that I am willing my quest should end where it begins — here.”

  “On a quest!” exclaimed the Vicar; “Venus, Cupid, and Juno! Ah! I see how it is. Rich, humoured, and touched in the head. Pray, what do you mean by Juno?”

  “Juno Pronuba, said the stranger, the goddess of marriage.”

  “I see, sir, you are inclined to make a joke of both me and my daughter. Sir, I must tell you this very unbecoming levity.”

  “My dear sir, I assure you.”

  “Sir, it is palpable. Would any man make a serious proposal to a
man of my cloth for his daughter, and talk to him of the grace of Venus and Cupid and Juno Pronuba, the goddess of marriage?”

  “I swear to you, sir,” said the stranger, earnestly, “by the sacred head of Pan.”

  “Pan!” exclaimed the vicar. “Sir! this is most outrageous. Ellen, my love, fetch me another mug of buttered ale, for my exertions exhaust me.”

  Ellen disappeared, glad of momentary relief, for she had been sitting in a state of extreme embarrassment, with her hands crossed on her lap, and her looks fixed on the carpet. The vicar threw himself into his great arm-chair, and fanned himself with his handkerchief. The stranger stood silently watching the door for the reappearance of Ellen, who shortly returned with the mug, which the vicar, taking, presented to the stranger, saying: “Come, sir. My wrath, which was great, must not make me unmindful of old Welsh hospitality.”

  Calidore took the mug, and sipped it to please the vicar, having first poured a small quantity of it on the floor, saying: “Hiléthi, Bacche!”

  “Really, sir,” said the vicar, after a copious draught,— “this is most monstrous and most incomprehensible. I wax warm, sir, in wrath.”

  The truth was that the vicar was really angry with the stranger’s words and actions, but as often as he cast his eyes on the golden shower on the floor he felt his wrath suddenly mollified But having broken the ice of his voice he went on like a general thaw, to the great amazement of Ellen, as well as of Mrs and Miss Ap-Nanny, who, hearing the unusual rimbombo of his gutturonasal eloquence, burst into the room to ascertain what was the matter.

  “I declare,” said Mrs Ap-Nanny, “here is the floor covered with money.”

  “I declare,” said Miss Ap-Nanny, “here is papa in a passion.”

  “I am so,” said the vicar, “and with very orthodox reason. I am in a great and very exceeding passion. I found this young man in the act of seducing Ellen—”

  “Nay, nay, dear papa,” said Ellen deprecatingly.

  “Oh! the monster!” said Miss Ap-Nanny.

  “Oh! horrid!” said Mrs Ap-Nanny.

  “and with this gold, I suppose,” said Miss Ap-Nanny. “Did he throw all this gold on the floor?”

  “Yes,” said the vicar: “he throws everything on the floor: he threw himself on the floor: he threw his money on the floor: he threw my buttered ale on the floor.”

  “And greased the carpet, I protest” screamed Mrs Ap-Nanny.

  “And had the impudence to talk to me about Bacchus,” continued the vicar; “and called Pan to witness that he wanted to marry my daughter by the grace of Venus and Cupid and Juno Pronuba, the goddess of marriage: which I think composes altogether the most atrocious outrage that was ever offered to a man of my cloth.”

  “I am so inexperienced in the manners of this country,” said Calidore, “that I did not know that the greatest outrage one gentleman can offer to another is to propose to marry his daughter. I should have acted with more circumspection if I had been aware of this fact.”

  “Sir,” said the vicar, “there is no such fact but in your own head, which seems to be a repository for every thing that is nowhere else, and for nothing that is elsewhere. Sir, the vial of my wrath overflows.”

  “Jupiter knows,” said the stranger.

  “Jupiter!” said the vicar. “Do you take my daughter for Danaë, that you come courting with a shower of gold? Rally sir, I must say—”

  “Certainly,” interrupted Miss Ap-Nanny, “it is a most extraordinary proceeding for a gentleman to land one evening on a strange coast, and begin the next morning by making love to one of the two first pretty girls he sees. But Ellen knows better than to listen to such a fly-away offer. Don’t you, Ellen, my dear?” — Ellen was silent.— “Why, bless me, the girl is bewitched. What can you have done to her, you wicked wretch, to bewitch her so completely in such a short space of time?” And combining this idea of Ellen’s bewitchment with those of the gold and the pocket-boat, the conviction flashed upon her that the stranger was one who had sold himself to the devil; and unable in her sudden panic to give utterance to the idea, she fell back in a chair kicking and screaming in a fit of violent hysterics.”

  “Water! water!” cried the vicar, and in his hurry and alarm poured over her forehead the remainder of his buttered ale.

  Ellen slipped away in the confusion, sent in the servant with the water, and made her escape into the garden. The stranger snatched his opportunity and pursued her, while Dr and Mrs Ap-Nanny were engrossed with the fainting spinster. Calidore, after a few détours among the thick shades of the garden, found Ellen by the banks of a little torrent, that flung itself in rapid descent down a sloping hollow of rock. She was sitting on a rustic bench under a trellis wreathed with clematis, which she had planted and reared. Calidore threw himself at her feet. Ellen was exceedingly discomposed. Her acquaintance with the youth of the other sex had been limited to the jolly squires and hunting parsons of Cambria, and a young and handsome stranger, kneeling at her feet, and breathing passionate love, made a very dazzling impression on her inexperienced and susceptible mind. Calidore, on the other hand, who had come to England on a quest for a wife, had been prepared to fall in love at a moment’s notice, and being thus prepared on both sides the ignition was easy and the combustion rapid. Ellen however, could not feel perfectly convinced that she had really made so sudden a conquest; nor, if she had been so convinced, could she have supposed that a flame so lightly kindled would not be as easily destroyed. She therefore, as usual on similar occasions, assured the enamoured youth that she had no other attachments; that if he were what he appeared to be she might in time feel kindly disposed towards him; entreated him to take a little time to ascertain if his momentary partiality were likely to continue permanent; exhorted him to proceed to London, as that was his destination, and assured him that if he revisited that part of Wales she should be happy to see him again. Calidore could not but acquiesce in the propriety of all she said: and, encouraged by these sweet words, and by much sweeter looks, he tore himself away from the garden of the vicarage, returned to the inn, threw himself into a post-chaise, and set forward for the metropolis. We shall leave him to enjoy the music of hoofs and wheels, while we give some account of his birth, parentage and education.

  CHAPTER III

  KING ARTHUR, AFTER the fatal battle in which so many of his knights perished, and he himself was dangerously wounded by the traitor Mordred, was conveyed by the Ladies or Nymphs of the waters on board a small vessel, which made from the land in the sight of Duke Lukyon of Gloster. Fatigue and exhaustion overcame the pain of his wound, and he fell into a deep sleep. When he awoke, under the midnight moon, he found himself miraculously well. Merlin was standing by him on the deck with a small bottle. He had just poured from it a few drops upon Arthur’s wound, which had healed immediately. Looking round, the king found himself in the midst of familiar faces. He recognised his dear Guenever, and her dear friend Sir Launcelot, and Sir Cawline and his lady, and Sir Gawaine and Sir Kay and many other valiant and courteous knights and ladies bright of blee, and last not least in love his butler Bedevere.

  “Honest Bedevere,” said King Arthur, “if there be anything in this vessel analogous to a buttery and a cellar, do thy office and let us eat and drink. This is a merry meeting indeed, for I thought we were all dead.”

  “The will of fate,” said Merlin, “seconded by my art and this vital elixir, has wrought this effect. You must forsake your kingdom for the present, but you shall return to it by-and-by with a numerous chivalry, and reign glorious and victorious in Britain. Meanwhile we must live in a solitary island, in a sea hitherto unexplored, where we must enjoy ourselves as well as we can till the fated hour of your return.”

  “Very well,” said King Arthur; “and for the present, illuminate Bedevere with your art, to assist him in procuring us a supper, for none of us has eaten anything since we were killed.”

  Merlin led the whole party to the cabin, where they feasted joyously till sunrise, and con
tinued to live a very merry life during the whole of their voyage.

  When they approached the destined island they were delighted to perceive that its aspect presented a most promising diversity of mountain, valley, and forest reposing in the sunshine of a delicious climate. Two very singular persons were walking on the seashore; one in the appearance a young and handsome man with a crown of vine-leaves on his head; the other a wild and singular figure in a fine state of picturesque roughness with goat’s horns and feet and a laughing face. As the vessel fixed its keel in the shore and King Arthur and his party landed, the two strangers approached and inquired who they were, and whence they came? — This, replied Merlin, is the great King Arthur; this is his fair queen, Guenevere: and I am the potent Merlin: these are the illustrious knights of the round table: and this is the King’s butler, Bedevere. The butler, said the first stranger, shall be welcome. And so shall the ladies, said the second. But as to the rest of you, pursued the first, we must know you a little better before we accord you our permission to advance a step in this island. I am Bacchus, and I, said the other, am Pan. So, said Sir Launcelot, I find we have to contend with the evil powers. If you mean us by that appellation, said Bacchus, you will find us too strong for you. This island is the retreat of all the gods and goddesses, genii and nymphs, who formerly reigned in Olympus, and dwelt in the mountains and valleys of Greece and Italy. Though we had not much need of mankind, we had a great affection for them, and lived among them on good terms and in an interchange of kind offices. They regaled us with the odours of sacrifice, built us magnificent temples, and especially showed their piety by singing and dancing, and being always social and cheerful, and full of pleasure and life, which is the most gratifying appearance that man can present to the gods. But after a certain time they began to change most lamentably for the worse. They discontinued their sacrifices; they broke our images, many of which we had sate for ourselves; they called us frightful and cacophonous names — Beelzebub and Amaimon and Astaroth: they plundered and demolished our temples, and built ugly structures on their ruins, where, instead of dancing and rejoicing as they had been used to do, and delighting us with spectacles of human happiness, they were eternally sighing and groaning, and beating their breasts, and dropping their lower jaws, and turning up the whites of their eyes, and cursing each other and all mankind, and chaunting such dismal staves that we shut our eyes and ears, and, flying from our favourite terrestrial scenes, assembled in a body among the clouds of Olympus. Here we held a council as to what was to be done for the amendment of these perverted mortals; but Jupiter informed us that necessity, his mistress, and that of the world, compelled him to acquiesce for a time in this condition of things, that mankind, who had never been good for a great deal, were now become so worthless, and withal so disagreeable, that the wisest course we could adopt would be to leave them to themselves and retire to an undisturbed island for which he had stipulated with the fates. Here, then, we are, and have been for ages. That mountain on which the white clouds are resting is now Mount Olympus, and there dwell Jupiter and the Olympian deities. In these forests and valleys reside Pan and Silenus, the Fauns and the Satyrs, and the small nymphs and genii. I divide my time between the two, for though my home is Olympus, I have a most special friendship for Pan. Now I have only this to say, that if you come here to make frightful faces, chaunt long tunes, and curse each other through the nose, I give you fair warning to depart in peace: if not, we shall find no trouble in expelling you by force, as Jupiter will testify to you. Jupiter gave the required testification by a peal of thunder from Olympus.